You are My Sunshine
by velveteenMemoirs
Summary: Maybe, it had all started on the fateful day. When he had gazed unto those fervent crimson eyes; that he had found what he has been lacking all along. Just maybe.
1. A Picture Painted in Grey

**Title:**_ You are My Sunshine_

**Rating:** _T_- There's a smidge of cursing, some violence but other than that, this series is mainly fluff. If you look closely, that is.

**Disclaimer:**Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

**Author's Note:** I, personally, adore this pairing. Even though these two are among my favorites, they go better together; or so I'd like to think. Seeing how this is my entry for a contest, I would honestly appreciate your opinion on this~. :]

* * *

It seemed just like yesterday that Squalo had looked into those fervent eyes that promised a strength greater than his own. That he had been flashed a feral grin, accompanied by protruding canines that made his glare —as reluctant as he was to think— ten times scarier than his own.

Perhaps, his mind had since then admitted defeat. Conceding acknowledgment to the fake Vongola of the power and leadership he was bereft of to lead the Varia, that same rainy day, deep in his subconscious.

And, surprisingly, he had been perfectly fine with the way things had unfolded since.

Except, now that he was beginning to acknowledge it with a sober mind?

He would much rather dip his head into the pool of magma they had underground than to even think about granting subjugation to the pretentious bastard of his Boss.

Even so, Squalo knew that was not the heart of what really had been bothering him as of late.

A few days ago, with a large emphasis on "few", the silver-haired Mafioso had the ill luck to have walked in on his superior…consummating… with a woman he had seduced earlier that day.

Not that it had been the first time such an occurrence happened between the two. Neither was it the event itself nor the vexing memory of it that upset him.

Oh, _no_.

It was the fact that, although it had been small and fleeting, his mind had conjured up a thought that made him nauseous to even reminisce.

For the first time in his life, Squalo had internally wished it had been he to be bent over the very desk he reported to.

That it had been he, who could have been able to share such an intimate and passionate act with his Boss; to be permitted to elicit those groans he gave and be the paramour writhing for his touch beneath him. To have the allowance to admire the faded scars that still fascinated him to the present with his own flesh.

Pulling his prosthetic hand away from the practice dummy he was sparing with, he frowned, scrunching his nose distastefully at the lingering memory.

He had envied the random girl, for having been able to rouse his leader in such a state he knew he never would be able to.

…But the worst part of it all?

Thrusting his sword into the doll swiftly, the cut clean but nothing near accurate, his breaths had gone ragged from the blinding fury engulfing him. Slashing deeper, to the point he had split the figure in half, Squalo glared at it with an unimaginable amount of ire as his chest heaved.

—it was obvious his Boss held no interest in him more tha as his subordinate.

The realization that, despite as much as he tried to embrace the tantalizing warmth, he would always be left gazing at the Sun, blindly, from afar.


	2. Inadvertent Sanguinity

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

**Author's Note:** One major plus in writing for these two: I can easily write them with slight OOC, but it will not be outright noticeable as it would with other characters. How awesome is that?

* * *

Recently, the thought that maybe he had grown insane no longer seemed like a farfetched idea.

Staring, with eyes wide and mind thoughtlessly blank, the silver-haired Mafioso gaped like a flustered schoolgirl being asked out by her school idol.

And, essentially, that was not all that far from the truth, either.

"Che, you sure about this?"

Even after his Boss sent him a hardened, threatening glare, he refused to flee like a dog with its tail between his legs.

ー because he could literally see that was the expression his superior had hoped to see him in.

Heaving a sigh, Squalo briefly scratched at an imaginary itch on his head, before snatching a manila folder out of a tanned hand's grasp and taking his leave.

As he stomped his way to his room to prepare his things, he had not noticed the slight movement of the fake Vongola's hand had made to slip a small note into the packet. Furthermore, being done with the knowledge that he wouldn't dare even look at the contents into he made his way to the base in Japan, the Varia leader grinned self-contently, leaning back in his seat as he propped his feet upon his escritoire.

Hesitantly knocking on his door, after receiving the okay, Lussuria strode in with a knowing look practically glowing off his features.

"Mah, Xanxus, couldn't you have at least seen him off~?"

Taking a step back at the warning glare, he held his hands defensively before himself.

"He doesn't need me to hold his fucking hand."

He practically chucked his wineglass at the flamboyant male, for the sly smirk playing on his lips; had it not been for the next words that rolled off his tongue.

"Of course not; but he obviously would appreciate the gesture, anyhow~."

Making his way out of his Boss's office while he still had the chance, Xanxus on the other hand was too busy trying to figure out what he had meant.

And once he did, he smirked at the thought in his mind before finishing the rest of his prized, crimson liquid.

"It looks like I have a lesson to teach that useless piece of trash."

When he found it pointless in trying to stop Bel from stabbing Fran in the back, as amusing as it was, Squalo shouted at the two before hurrying off towards their private plane.

Faintly, a memory of a rainy day from years past lingered in his sleep on his way to the designated island. Surprisingly, as he woke halfway through his flight, he found the reminiscence to be a soothing parting gift from the very man that had sent him off.


	3. Burden of the Past

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

**Author's Note:** I'm sincerely happy to know a lot of you have been enjoying this series as much as I have. Who knew these two had such a popularity? :D

* * *

He came to realize he had been thinking a lot lately. And Squalo hardly ever enjoyed doing that.

He didn't want to think. He felt it was pointless, taking into consideration his current dilemma, and would much rather go with his raw instinct as he normally did.

But things were far past normal now.

Which brought him back to his situation; there he sat, nude and alone on his Hotel bed, box of tissues in one hand and glass of alcohol in the other.

He could not even remember _why_ he had done what he had in the first place.

Tilting his head back as he swallowed the rest of the beverage, he sneered at a nearby wall before suddenly throwing his glass at it with a sudden burst of ire. As it shattered and cascaded in a morbidly beautiful display, he slapped a hand onto his forehead out of further frustration.

The bastard was in every damn thought he had that week. In fact, each one might as well have been dedicated to his Boss.

Scrubbing his face with his left hand, he stared at the empty space beside him, and suddenly felt a rare wistfulness wash over him. A pathetic grin tugging at him, the silver-haired Mafioso tried his best to keep his nausea at bay as he heaved a sigh.

And there wasn't a damn thing he could do to stop himself from acting like so.

It was stupid. The act itself was wrong and dirty and simply a temporary fix spawned from desperation to reconcile his current heartache ー yet, there he was, pale hands roaming over equally pale flesh, as an image of the fake Vongola roused his mind.

He wished he had control over the way his body reacted at the mere mention of the man; he hoped that one day he would be able to get over his current… infatuation, so that he would not have to spend his nights alone as he was now. He wanted to know why he was doing this to himself in the first place.

But as he breathlessly called out Xanxus' name into the cold and vacant room, body trembling, something in his mind clicked.

He would never, because he had been caught asunder by the brunette's intoxicating influence since long ago.


	4. Dying Flowers

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

**Author's Note:** So, I really liked the title for this one. But, I figured it would be misinterpreted unless I gave a thorough explanation of how it's used here. Hopefully, it worked.

* * *

Eye twitching, hands shaking as he practically ripped the small note he held to shreds then and there, it took everything Squalo had not to throw a tantrum.

"What… the fuck?"

It had been a few moments since his earlier… experiment, and after a brief shower, it dawned on him to actually read the instructions of his job. But when he had, the stationery of his current dudgeon made its appearance.

And it held nothing less than news he really could have gone his whole life without knowing.

A border-lining maniacal laugh spilling forth from his gaping mouth, and the silver-haired male had to stop himself from stabbing his mattress. Xanxus had fucked around with his mind many times than he cared to recall, but this took the cake.

"_'Better not make too much of a mess before I get there, Trash'_, huh?"

Plopping onto his bed, he crumpled the paper as he stole a glimpse at his calendar, then his clock, before he gazed back at the manila folder.

"Why the fuck would I listen to you?" He seethed, incredulous as he ran a tentative hand through his fringe.

Not only was his stay in Japan bad enough because of the weather and the constant focus his mind had on the bastard, but to have to actually wait until he came so they could finish they're current mission? Together?

Squalo could not help it as he tore open the crease in the folder, as he glared death at the same defenseless wall he had attacked earlier.

"Great. Just…" He found that his tongue was too thick and speaking the slightest was tiresome.

"Great."

But it wasn't the fact itself that the fake Vongola was going to join him that had put his emotions in such a state of uproar. He knew that much.

It was the fact that a small ー well, _huge __ー_ part of him had secretly hoped Xanxus would be going along as well. Therefore, now that he knew that his wish indeed was to come true, he had no idea in how he should react. Let alone feel about the whole thing.

Lying down with a soft thud, he covered his face with his hands that now clutched the note again, and heaved a sigh as the lightest of blushes tinted his pale features.

Regardless, the knowledge that his Boss was, presumably, going out of his way to have arranged such a meeting made him want to shout until his voice gave out with joy.

Rolling to his side with a heavy groan, he stared at the untouched folder for a moment, when his eyes widened in realization of what was inside. Prompt in emptying out its contents, his jaw literally dropped at the small compilation of photos. And by the darker shading of red on his face, they were not just any photos.

Snorting as be flipped through each one, every single muscle and nerve in his body tensed and paralyzed at the last one. His breath had even escaped him at the sight. And even as there was a loud knock against his door, he couldn't bring himself to look away, because with that single snapshot of the integral part of his life, Squalo understood perfectly well what it meant.

He was not the only one of the two who felt the way he did.

It just proved that his pretentious bastard of a love interest was thoroughly convinced in hiding it more than he, to the point he had to arrange such a situation before he could finally stop dying the flowers a color more appeasing to everyone else's taste.


	5. To the Grave

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

* * *

Squalo couldn't help the small yelp of surprise he let out as his Boss suddenly strode into his room. In fact, he entitled every right to be afraid; after all, he had just Hotel-hopped a total of seven times that evening to avoid the very man's presence.

Narrowing his eyes to hide the unavoidable amount of fear he expressed, he set down the compilation of photos safely inside a drawer before closing it quietly. Xanxus, much like the predator everyone knew him as, made no move whatsoever - yet had him trapped to the single area of the Queen-sized bed all the same.

Funny how life worked like that.

Scooting over the mattress until he stood up fluidly, Squalo made sure to avoid any possibilities of casting his onyx gaze off the crimson counterpart. He then opened his mouth to ask - to speak up; to say anything, really - yet, absolutely no sound escaped him more than a dull croak.

He had to rethink his escape plan, then.

"Seems like you always were the coward I knew you were."

The silver-haired Mafioso recovered from his blank moment as a surprised look overtook him, eyes now wide at the sudden intruding deep voice. He had not even noticed the lack of Xanxus' usual attire; he was now only clothed in leather jeans and a loose button-up shirt. Nor had he noted the slight sadness he had shown in his voice.

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Squalo refrained from the extreme adolescent temptation of chewing on his lower lip. Taking a moment to clear his mind and exhaling most of his anxiety in one breath, he kept his gaze narrow and level.

"Is that any worse than "trash", or have I just been promoted?" He spat dryly.

Xanxus growled in response and took a few steps forward, heels of his dress shoes echoing louder than they should have.

"I'd say it's the bottom of the barrel for you, fucker."

Squalo flinched at the distance expressed through merely his words, absentmindedly crossing his arms and leaning most of his weight one his right leg. Dangerous or not, it seemed his body was still fully aware of when someone challenged him.

"Well, that kinda sucks - seeing how I /loved/ being your assistant and all." He derisively deterred, waving a hand flippantly in the air. "But, hey; at least I can stop being your damn errand boy."

Wolfish smirk gaining more territory by the second on Xanxus' face, he replied, "It was more like the role of my bitch."

Squalo couldn't help the raise of his brows before he frowned, instinctively looking away. For some reason or another, despite the various words of vulgar the Fake Vongola had called him before... They had never actually hurt him as bad as it had this time. Yet, he was also vaguely aware of the light heat on his cheeks for the same explanation. A thought hit him abruptly.

Had he gone masochistic?

Shaking his head - as well as the idle ideas - he couldn't help the small yelp that escaped him as Xanxus stalked on over. With every breath he exhaled, the other did, too; with every tremble and shiver his body convulsed with, the latter simply smirked against a flustering ear. With each erratic beat of his heart, the brunette's did the same. And Squalo honestly couldn't help but wonder - or was he simply too fond of the role as the submissive one in their relationship to care about his pride?

It seemed perhaps Xanxus caught on, for he chuckled in a faux condescending manner as he snaked his arms around a thin waist possessively, pulling him flush to his chest. He took a moment to inhale at his nape for the scent only the silverette made him long for - crave for - preceded by the faint push of his lithe body to the mattress. Once Squalo complied, almost too willingly, he shed himself of his shirt hastily, tearing off each button at its seams, when he suddenly flipped the other onto his back. That is probably when he noticed the faint revelation of an emotion he'd yet to see in the silverette's eyes. Not since that day.

He was _excited_.

He was sincerely excited; for reasons most obvious and justificatory that no repercussions recited to them could have stopped Xanxus from ravishing his mouth with his sinful tongue. Could not stop Squalo from ripping both their clothes off and writhing closer for the warmth of the man he had revered for far too long in solitude. They simply became over-driven with pure need, the need to elicit a louder moan from the other. The need to convey every girlish emotion felt when the other was around through rough but gentle caresses.

The need to have someone who understood what that aching feeling was when the other was truant embracing them, as the material world faded and it was just them there.

And as Squalo formed the shape of Xanxus' name with his mouth, breath stolen from him, a mutual agreement had been made as the two drowned in their novel ecstasy. This was something no one else could take away; nor would either dare to try to leave the other on the backburner simply out of vengeance. It was their choice alone that continued to keep their tentative relations.

It was a novel bond of l'amour.


	6. Inclination

**Disclaimer:** Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

**Author's Note:** I'm going to miss writing for these two.

* * *

Xanxus woke up the next morning with a delicious cup of coffee - black, no sugar or creamer - and a sight that practically beseeched his wolfish smirk. He set down the porcelain cup for a moment, as he howled a yawn and arched his back against the chair until a few vertebrae popped back into place. He had to dodge a throw pillow aimed at his face, however, whence he tried to take a sip of his drink.

His smirk gained more territory, as he raised a brow mock inquisitively, crossing his arms over a bare chest.

" 'The fuck was that for?"

Even Squalo couldn't help the snort he gave at the pseudo fury he tried to speak with. Sitting up, hissing as his muscles screamed with dull aches and sore flesh, he flustered at the reasons why they were in such a state. And it only worsened when Xanxus leered at him, knowingly, smirk hiding behind his mug.

"For being a bastard." The silverette attempted.

Barking a short chuckle, the brunette set his drink down once more as he took a seat on the bedside.

"Then I don't think that's enough for even my birth." He dryly mused.

Earning a soft grin, he reached over to a nearby stand and ruffled around, a playful look on him. At this, Squalo gulped a sudden lump formed at his throat before tugging on his arm. Xanxus stopped for a moment, brow quirked curiously, and it took all the spare will he had to speak.

"What, you don't think six hours was enough?"

The fake Vongola began to chuckle a little softer now, a faint pink tinting his tan cheeks as he gave Squalo a questioning glance.

"As much as I'd like to say "No, it wasn't", that's not exactly what I was looking for."

The silverette pouted childishly, cheeks flushed darker now. He had been slightly hoping for Xanxus to jump on him like a dog in heat, but the thought made his ass throb with an ache. Clearly, six hours had indeed been enough. For now, anyways.

He was pulled out of his lewd thoughts when the brunette abruptly waved a small notebook-sized object in his face. Squalo blinked more than a handful of times, confusion spelled lucidly on his face as he took the proffered item. The moment he realized what it was, however, his eyes widened and his flush renewed, mouth gaping open.

Xanxus knew he had never smirked as wide as he was then.

"T-this…" He managed to stutter, turning to glance at the brunette with exuberant eyes. "You made this?"

Xanxus puffed his chest out slightly - if only to emphasize his masculinity - as he idly toyed with a pale hand between his own.

"What of it?"

Squalo grinned, somewhat arrogantly, once he caught on. There was no way he was going to let his Boss deter the major shock of such a gesture.

"It's pretty, for one thing."

Xanxus frowned some, primarily at the self-made assumption he had said it to mock him. However, once he glanced over at the silver-haired Mafioso, the sight made his face visibly brightened and he even managed an awkward half-smile.

"I had no idea all his happened so soon…" Squalo mused, mainly to himself.

Grunting as he flopped to his side, completely ignoring the fact his clothes had been neatly ironed, the brunette rest his head against a slim shoulder. He couldn't help the chuckle at a certain snapshot he had managed to find for the compilation.

"Remember when you added that… thing, onto you?" He inquired teasingly, earning a huff.

"It's called a prosthetic arm, stupid." Squalo whined, but with good intentions as he turned back to the scrapbook. "Of course I remember. Fucking hurt like hell."

Xanxus fell into a small fit every now and then, as did the silverette, once they both began to go through each picture thoroughly. Neither had expected the other to retain memories for each, but the fact they did and could actually speak so openly about it to someone who was there, was a nice change in pace. And even as Xanxus did try to "harass" Squalo ever so often; the silverette could not bring himself to pull away or to make him stop earnestly. He had finally gotten what he had so desperately hoped to achieve for so long.

At last, he could bask in the warmth of a man he knew reciprocated his feelings.


End file.
